


Come Home With Me

by therjolras



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Getting Lost, Loneliness, Making Friends, alternate universe-- reincarnation, direct quotes from the brick, having no friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:56:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therjolras/pseuds/therjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius is alone in Paris... until he is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Home With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I don't remember where the idea for this came from, but I wanted to write a reincarnation fic and so I did. Italics are the past, normal the present. This is my first fic and I have no idea what's going to happen here but I think it'll be fun. Excelsior.

Marius had no idea why he felt so drawn to the stranger. As people went, he was nondescript: rumpled plaid shirt unbuttoned over a Game of Thrones t-shirt, plain jeans, and an unruly mess of curly brown hair. Compared to Marius, he looked positively vivacious (but that was Marius’s own fault, wearing black all the time). Marius hardly saw him for a moment-- heard a few timbres of the stranger’s voice-- and felt a sudden surge of emotion that might have knocked him over had he been standing up. He wasn’t even sure what the emotion was: joy, or sorrow, or the two of them combined; Marius took a generous bite of his sandwich (his only meal that day, he had to be careful) to compensate, and almost choked.

The stranger sat down two tables away and tucked into a sandwich of his own; Marius, already disconcerted, had to try as hard as he could not to look over his shoulder at him. He chewed each mouthful of sandwich twenty times and stared fixedly at the same spot in his law textbook. Then he abruptly turned his head towards the stranger’s table, and he was gone.

Marius felt inexplicably crushed, like his greatest friend in the world (if he even had one) had just abandoned him. He briefly revisited the painful urge to bury his head in his hands, but instead finished his sandwich. If he was going to keep any money in his pocket until he found a job, it would be his only meal that day. And there was still school to think about.

~~~

 

_“Monsieur Marius Pontmercy?” Marius paused, looked up._ _“Well?”_

_“_ _You are Monsieur Marius Pontmercy?”_

_“Certainly.”_

_“_ _I was looking for you.”_

_“How is that?” He had just left his grandfather’s, and he had before him a face which he saw for the first time. “I don’t know you.”_

_“Nor I either, I do not know you.”_

_Marius was confused. Perhaps he had met a lunatic, and this was the beginning of a great prank in the middle of the street. “You were not at school yesterday,” said the stranger, who was bald._

_“It is possible.”_

_“It is certain.”_

~~~

That afternoon, Marius took the metro across town to look at an apartment and got lost two minutes after leaving the station. He wandered around in a poor state, looking like a large raven dressed all in black with no more than a duffel bag filled with books and clothes to his name.

It was brisk for fall, and the wind kept sticking its chilly fingers down his collar.

Then there was a hand like a vise on his shoulder. Marius was spun around with his duffel bag flying from his shoulder, and then he was looking up into the face of a wiry, tall, terrifying stranger in a torn denim vest so red Marius was surprised it wasn’t illegal. Marius, for a moment, was hellishly sure that he was done for. And then the next moment, he was saved.

“ _Bahorel!_ I said stop him, not scare him to death. Remind me to send Bossuet next time, maybe he’ll have a more friendly impact, even if he trips over his own feet." Marius knew that voice, far better than having just heard it order a sandwich across the cafe; It was the same man, he was sure, bundled up in a slightly less hellishly red jacket. “Sorry ‘bout that, bro. Bahorel’s nuts 90 percent of the time, but he was the closest to the door. You can put him down, now, Bahorel.” Bahorel (as was, apparently, his name) released him. Marius’s shoulder was sore. “Um, thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” said the stranger, giving Marius a grin and a clap on the back that made him jump. Face-to-face, Marius noticed a few little details: the coat he wore was new, and looked expensive; pinned to the lapel was a shabbily made rosette or pin of concentric red, white, and blue circles.The stranger himself looked about Marius’s age, but with more laugh lines around his brown eyes than Marius could possibly hope to acquire in a lifetime and a wide grin full of very white teeth (one of which was chipped). “I’m Courfeyrac,” he said, “And you are a complete stranger but I swear you look familiar. Have you got a name?”

“Ehm, ah, Pontmercy. Marius Pontmercy,” he managed. Courfeyrac nodded. “Rings no bells, but we should probably hang out together until we figure it out. Where are you going?”

“I was going to look at a flat,” Marius said mournfully, “but I have since gotten lost and am probably painfully late.”

“Have you got a place to go back to?”

“No.”

“Then you can stay with me. I’ve got a couch you can crash on.”

“But-- I-- we’ve only just met.”

“Exactly. Best place start. Never leave a friend in need, eh Bahorel?” Bahorel grinned a teddy-bear grin that did not fit with his face at all and nodded. Marius was too stunned by the word friend to say anything more.

~~~

_“...but I do not know where to go.”_

_“Monsieur,” said Courfeyrac, “Come home with me.”_


End file.
